


Demon Inside

by bi0nicbuckyb



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 16:43:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17328704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bi0nicbuckyb/pseuds/bi0nicbuckyb





	Demon Inside

“Please just keep an eye on him, Y/N,” Sam said in a low whisper, the noise sounding so loud in the empty, dark hallway it startled you. He placed his hand on your shoulder and leaned down so he was perfectly eye level with you. “For me?” 

You shifted your feet and looked up into Sam’s beautiful, tired eyes. You had both been through so much in such a short time, and you wondered when the last time was he slept. 

“You know I can't be around him like that, Sam.” 

“I won't be gone long, I promise. This is going to work.” His hand gave your shoulder a tight squeeze. 

Right. Human blood, injections, blah blah.. 

“Y/N…” Your name escaping Sam’s lips making you jump. 

“Yeah, sorry. Right. Watch him.” 

Sam kissed your forehead and pulled you to him, giving you a sideways hug. Your heart was beating hard, the thrum of your heartbeat filling your ears. 

“If he says anything to you, don't respond.” 

“I know, Sam.” 

“It's not really him, so don't take -” 

You put your hand up to cut him off. 

“Sam,” you signed, running a hand through your hair. “I got this.” 

“I'll be back as soon as I can.” He handed you the demon blade and you took it, feeling the weight of it in your hands; the weight connecting right to your heart. You hadn't seen Dean in weeks, the heartache that you and Sam went through when he died, trying to find him but failing, over and over; it built up in your chest like a dam, and then released like a flood. And now you were about to babysit him. “Call me if you need me.”

Sam smiled at you reassuringly, before turning around and walking down the hallway; his boot steps echoing off the stone walls of the bunker, his green bag slung over his shoulder. You listened to his footsteps until they disappeared at the top of the steps, the door latching and locking behind him. 

You were alone. With Dean. As a demon. 

You turned and stared at the shiny, chestnut colored door in front of you, your heart thudding wildly. The man you loved was behind this door, and yet you never got the opportunity to tell him. Hell, you were too scared to tell him. 

You inhaled deeply, blowing the air slowly out of your lungs. Your hand gripped the doorknob and you turned it, cautiously opening the door. A waft of sulphur hit your nose and you cringed, hurrying into the room and closing the door behind you.

The room was dark, save for a bright, hanging lamp in the middle of the room. Underneath it was a wooden chair; the chair you'd used to torture demons hundreds of times with Dean. And there he was; his beauty still catching your breath. But it wasn't him. Not really. 

His head was slumped forward, his wrists bound to the chair. His hair was longer than the last time you'd seen him, longer than you'd ever seen it before. Dark scruff lined his cheeks, as if he forgot to shave for a few days or just didn't care. You longed to see those emerald orbs staring back at you again, but the fear of dark black pools looking back at you instead made your spine tingle. You squeezed the demon blade in your hand, your temporary security blanket. 

You sat in a metal chair closest to the door, trying to quietly turn it around away from him. Looking at him for ten seconds was enough. 

“I was wondering when you'd show up,” a low, gravelly voice said behind you. You didn't say anything, finding a dingy spot on the wall to focus on. 

Don't reply. It's not him. 

“Did you miss me?” you couldn't see him, but you knew he was smiling; that stupid smug grin that made you want to punch him in his face. You ignored him. 

“I know you hear me, Y/N. Look at me.” 

His tone was commanding, domineering. Your insides froze, your hand squeezing the demon blade tighter against your palm. 

“No,” you said flatly, continuing to stare at your designated spot on the wall. 

“You know I can see in your head right?” he whispered, his hands rattling the chains that bound him. “Perks of being a demon.” 

Fuck. 

“Do you know what I see in that pretty little head of yours, Y/N?” 

I do. 

“Me.” 

“Fuck you, Dean,” you spat, your blood boiling in your veins. “The Dean I know wouldn't treat the ones he loved this way. You're not that man in my head.” 

“The man you knew is dead.” 

You got up and kicked the metal chair across the floor, walking to the end of the devil’s trap surrounding him and pointing the blade his way.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you scoffed, stabbing the air with each syllable. “You died in Sam’s arms, I watched him lay you in that bed. I grieved over you. We searched for you for weeks. You don't get to talk shit right now.” 

He was still smiling, his green eyes projecting a different emotion. Lust. You turned your back to him to leave the room, get some air from the complete fuck up that was this situation.

“You loved me,” he said plainly, stopping you in your tracks. 

“I did. Once.” 

“You still do. Right now I can see me fucking you senseless in your mind.” 

You turned around to face him again, your breath hitching as you watched his tongue snake out to slowly run over his bottom lip. 

“Stop it,” you whispered, becoming entranced under his gaze like some sick love spell. He was breathtaking, even now. 

“I'm still me yanno,” he said, sitting up to adjust himself, your eyes glancing down to see a growing erection in his jeans. You swallowed hard. “Just a really fucked up version of me.” 

“I can't do this,” you said, throwing up your hands and starting for the door. 

“Y/N,” Dean whispered, his tone of voice suddenly shifting. “I love you too, you know.” 

“No you don't. Demons don't love anyone.” 

“Look at me.” 

You felt your body turn around, your stomach tightening as you saw his expression. He looked like the Dean you knew, the Dean you loved. 

“I could never hurt you, Y/N. I don't want to.” You watched as that devilish grin splayed across his face once more. “Just in the fun way.” 

You felt your stomach tighten, a strange desire coming over you. You thought of Dean's hands exploring you, pulling and kneading at your curves, his perfect lips caressing every inch of your body. You bit your lip, unable to control your emotions. Dean groaned from his seat in the middle of the room, invading your thoughts and seeing everything you'd just desired. 

“I want to do all of that to you, sweetheart,” His voice was as thick as molasses, coated with sex. “Come here.” 

You started to walk towards him and stopped yourself, your foot hovering over the white line of the devil’s trap. 

“How do I know I can trust you?” you asked, making direct eye contact with the demon in front of you. 

“You can't,” he answered, raking his teeth over his bottom lip. “But that isn't going to stop you.” 

He was right. 

Your foot stepped over the white line and you were suddenly in the circle. He was staring at you, watching your every movement, looking your body up and down like it was the first time he’d really seen you. 

“All this time I was too busy with my fucked up life to notice you,” he grumbled, his voice low and dangerous. “But I see you now. Come here.” 

You walked closer, your hands shaking at your sides. Whether it was from fear or excitement, you couldn't tell. You stopped inches in front of him, close enough to reach out and touch him now. 

“Good girl,” he whispered, chuckling at himself. A shiver ran up your arms, goosebumps rising on your skin. 

“Sam told me not to talk to you.” 

“Sam's not here, is he?” 

“I'm afraid of you,” you said, your voice breaking. Nothing had ever scared you in this way, yet turned you on so much at the same time. Demons were filth, yet here you were in the middle of a devil’s trap with the man you loved, his soul twisted into the thing you hated most. Yet the thought of his head between your legs and your hands fisted into his soft hair made your knees weak. 

“You should be,” he replied, his greens eyes glinting mischievously in the light. “But I'm not going to hurt you.” 

Dean’s eyes scanned over you again and fell on the demon blade clutched in your palm. 

“I'm tied up, Y/N. I can't hurt you, even if I wanted to. Put that blade down and come touch me.” 

Against your own will, you set the blade down at your feet and walked closer to him. You reached out and ran your fingers along his chiseled jaw, feeling his scruff underneath your fingertips. You watched his jaw tense under your touch, the muscles dancing under his skin. You moved your thumb down to run over the cleft in his chin, working your fingers back up to run through his hair. It was so soft and long, the tresses sliding through your fingers like silk. His eyes were closed, his breath quickening at your touch. 

“Kiss me,” he breathed, his eyes fluttering open and boring into yours. You leaned down and kissed his perfect lips softly, a spark running through you that you'd never felt before. It was the exact spark you'd imagine you'd feel after all this time. 

You ran your tongue over Dean’s bottom lip and he darted out his own, slipping it inside your mouth. He tasted like whiskey, the same whiskey he always drank. He didn’t smell like sulphur as you thought he would, considering the entire room did; he smelled clean, like the shampoo that was still sitting in the shower from before he left. This was the Dean you knew, deep down inside. Your brain told you to run out the door, but your heart told you to stay right where you were. 

You wrapped your legs around Dean’s waist, sitting in his lap. You felt his growing erection poke your thigh as you shifted your legs over, inserting them through the holes in the back of the chair. As you put your weight down on him, you watched his hand flex in the cuffs, his top teeth biting at his lower lip. His eyes were hooded as he watched you, your hands moving up to run through his hair again, giving it a slight tug, a low hiss escaping his lips. 

“This is what you’ve wanted all along, isn’t it?” he purred, thrusting his hips up so his hard, denim clad cock pushed into the flesh of your thigh once more. 

“Yes,” you whispered, grinding against his growing bulge. He stretched his fingers out again, an indication he was desperate to touch you. You let your finger trail down the buttons of his maroon shirt, unbuttoning each one as you went. His hungry eyes watched as your hand found the denim covered erection in his jeans, throwing his head back against the chair as you squeezed it softly in your palm, kneading it. 

“Get on your knees,” he commanded, his hold over you so strong now you would have done anything he asked. “I need to see those beautiful lips wrapped around my cock.”

You complied and got down on your knees, undoing his belt with nimble fingers. You undid his zipper, pulling it down and releasing his throbbing member. It sprang free from its confines, so long and thick your mouth began to water. It was so hard you could practically see it pulsing under the light above you. You took it in your hand, wrapping your palm firmly around it. You stroked him for a few moments, feeling every ridge and vein move against your skin. 

“Y/N…” Dean growled, urging you to take him down your throat. 

You wrapped your lips around the swollen head of his cock, sucking him into your mouth. His breath hitched as he watched you, his body squirming underneath you. You hollowed your cheeks and took more of his length down, until the head hit the back of your throat, before pulling him completely back out of your mouth. His fingers were scraping along the wood of the chair now, his hips bucking into your throat like a wild man. Your eyes were watering as he continued to test your gag reflex, the soft velvety skin of his cock running over your tongue over and over. 

“Fuckkkk,” he breathed, shifting his perfect bow legs apart as you took him all the way down your throat once more, snaking your tongue out to lick just above his sack. You pulled his cock out of your mouth with a wet pop, raking your nails over his thighs and looking up at him. Dean’s eyes were hooded, his long lashes brushing against the top of his cheeks. He was so fucking beautiful, and you were at his complete mercy. You stood up and backed away from him a few inches, your chest rising and falling, your hands shaking. 

“I want you to touch me,” you whispered, taking the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. “I need you to touch me.” 

Dean narrowed his emerald orbs at you, like a snake in the grass, his cock still standing at perfect attention. 

“Uncuff me,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Tell me you need to touch me too,” you said, reaching around to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your breasts hung free, a low groan escaping Dean’s throat as he watched you. 

“I need to do more than that, Y/N,” he answered. “Uncuff me.” He nodded his head towards the nearby table, a small box sitting in the middle of it. You walked over and opened it, a small key laying inside. You picked it up and looked at it. This was a terrible idea, but you didn’t care; the lust throbbing inside of you making you turn around and walk towards Dean. Your Dean - demon or not. 

“Good girl,” he said, watching as you uncuffed his left wrist, then his right. You stood back and watched him as he flexed his hands, his gaze snapping back up at you when he realized he was free. In a millisecond, Dean was on you, his large calloused hands running down your arms. He moved them down to your waist, gripping your hips roughly and pulling you closer to him. You tensed under his touch, afraid but silently begging for more. 

Dean worked his fingers over the snap on your jeans, pulling down your zipper and thrusting his hand inside your pants to find your aching sex. 

“Fuck you’re so wet for me already,” he teased, rubbing his fingers over your clit in torturous circles. He inserted one thick digit inside you, feeling your walls clench around it like a vice. You threw your head back and moaned loudly, throwing all caution to the wind now, as he took your nipple in his mouth. As quickly as it started, Dean withdrew his finger, putting it into his mouth and sucking off your sweet juice. “Exactly how I imagined you’d taste.” 

You shimmied out of your panties and jeans, kicking them to the side. Your body ached with desperation for him to touch you further, clenching your thighs together to ease the discomfort of your sex throbbing between them.

“Bend over the chair,” Dean demanded, taking a hold of your arm and leading you to it. You put your knees up on the chair and bent over, your hands grasping onto the back of it. You felt his fingers dance along your bare back, making you squirm underneath him in anticipation. A soft mewl escaped your lips as he gave your ass a sharp swat, the sting coursing through your body as if a bee had stung you. He quickly ran his palm over the forming welt, easing the burn. 

“Please, Dean,” you begged, as he ran his fingers up and down your slick folds, stopping each time to rub your swollen clit. At your words, he thrust his two fingers into you deeply, your back arching. He rubbed the sweet spot inside of you so gently, it surprised you; the feeling of his thick fingers against your walls making you want to cum immediately. When he knew you were close he withdrew his fingers again, getting down on his knees behind you. His lips found your clit, taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. 

“Ffffuuuckkkk,” you screamed out, your orgasm ripping you to shreds. Dean growled into your pussy, lapping up your juices and biting the insides of your thighs. He took both hands and slapped your ass hard as he stood up, making you moan loudly. He took your shoulders in his hands and forced you to turn around, crushing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. You could taste yourself on his mouth, your senses clouded with everything Dean. 

“Ride me,” he said, sitting back down in the chair, his legs spread wide apart. “I need to see your face when I make you cum.”  
You put your legs through the back of the chair again, holding the back of the chair for balance. You hovered over him, his hands gripped around your hips like a vice, his teeth gritted awaiting your tight pussy to wrap around him. You lowered yourself down on him and felt him fill you, throwing your head back as he bucked his hips up to push all of him inside you. Your hands moved to his hair, tugging on it as he fucked you, his lips moving to your neck and biting down on your sensitive flesh. 

You raked your nails along his freckle dusted shoulders, drawing blood, feeling the muscles tense under your touch. He relentlessly pounded into you, your breasts swaying in his face as he gripped one firmly with his hand, taking the nipple into his mouth. All that could be heard in this small, dark room were both of your moans and groans, and the noises of his cock relentlessly fucking your sopping wet sex. 

Dean never faltered his pace, even when you put your forehead against his and whispered in his ear, “I love you.” In fact, it made him go harder, deeper; so deep you swore he’d break you in half. But you didn’t care. All you cared about now were the jolts of pleasure running through your entire body, the feeling of Dean underneath you as he brought you closer and closer to your breaking point. This was the only way Dean knew how to show his love, his tainted soul unable to communicate otherwise. 

Your walls pulsed around Dean’s cock and he could tell you were close, your juices running down the length of him and soaking his balls. He reached up and wrapped his hands around your throat, squeezing your pressure points slightly and making your vision pop white. 

“Cum on my cock, Y/N,” he commanded, fucking you in short, hard thrusts, brushing against your sweet spot each time. 

“Dean!” you screamed as you came around him, gripping onto his cock like it was your lifeline. Your legs began to shake as your orgasm overtook you, your toes involuntarily curling. Your breathing was labored and your chest was flushed red, as Dean released your throat, leaning forward to place sloppy, wet kisses all over your breasts and stomach. 

You worked your hips and ground on his cock, desperate to make him come undone. You bounced your ass and his hands gripped your soft flesh, feeling it move under his hands with each movement. 

“Give it to me, Dean,” you whispered in his ear, slamming your hips down on him and tightening our walls deliberately. He growled, but it was a different growl; scary and downright evil, but deliciously sexy. 

“Fuck!” he screamed, and his eyes turned dark black as he came. You felt his hot spurts of cum shoot deep inside you, his nails digging into the flesh of your ass. You kissed his face as he came down from his high, never wanting this moment to end. Even though his eyes were that of demon’s your heart still ached to love him, to fix him and make him yours forever. 

You got off of him, stretching your thighs and picking up your clothes. You heard Dean zip up his jeans behind you and sit back down in the chair. After you had finished putting your clothes back on, you turned around to find his hands laid flat against the arms of the chair, waiting for you to cuff him back up. You walked forward and cuffed him back up, a sudden urge to cry building up inside you. You picked up the demon blade and gripped it in your hand. 

“I don’t want to do this,” you whispered, choking back tears. “I just want you to be you again.”

“That’s Sam’s plan isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s never worked before - human blood. No one has ever cured a demon before.” 

“It’s going to work, Dean,” you said, walking towards the door. 

“And if it doesn’t?” he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. Your heart ached in your chest for him and all you wanted to do was run back and throw your hands around his neck, tell him everything would be okay. But you didn’t. You turned around to face him, tears welling up in your eyes. 

“Just remember how much I love you,” you answered, before opening the door and stepping out into the empty hallway. You didn’t hear it, but as the door closed Dean whispered back to you, something that surely would have broken you in two. 

“I love you too.”


End file.
